


Let it Snow

by queerlyobscure (softestpunk)



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/queerlyobscure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="">insmallpackages</a> holiday gift exchange for the wish: "Ficlet, Sherlock Holmes (ACD canon), Holmes & Watson drinking tea and watching snow fall (and snuggling)" which, I hope, is exactly what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let it Snow

“It was a good idea of yours to get out of town over Christmas, Holmes.” Watson smiled into his cup of tea, rugged up by the window and watching the first few flakes of snow being batted about by the wind outside. It was almost a reversal of their usual positions at this time of year, with Holmes closer to the fireplace, as though he was genuinely allergic to the countryside, as he'd so often claimed.

“My idea, Watson?” Holmes raised an elegant eyebrow and stood with a flourish of his own blanket to face his friend.

“Who else's if not yours? Unless we've got an imposter, it was you who informed me yesterday that I should pack for a week and meet you at the train station.”

“Ah. And you assume that because I made the arrangements, it was my idea?” He paced over a few steps, moving like a jungle cat even while he was clinging to the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Mrs. Hudson, then?” Watson frowned, unsure when Holmes had last taken her advice, if indeed this had ever actually happened.

“I'm sure she is enjoying her break from me, but no, not Mrs. Hudson. Someone who's judgement I trust implicitly.” He came to a stop behind Watson's chair, laying long fingers along the back of it.

“Mycroft, then?”

Holmes barked a laugh, making Watson jump at the sudden sound. “No, I think Mycroft might be even more averse to the countryside than I am. It was _you_ , my dear Watson, who made the suggestion.”

Watson blinked up at his friend for a moment, wondering how he could possibly have come to that conclusion. “I don't remember saying such a thing, Holmes. As much as I'm enjoying it.”

“You may not quite have used the words 'I think we should go to the countryside for Christmas', but it was your suggestion – or rather, the culmination of your many suggestions – that finds us here nevertheless.”

“I'm afraid I don't follow.” Watson paused, then smiled wryly at the statement he'd just made, aware that it could easily have gone unsaid and taken as a permanent fact of dealing with Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes laughed again, but more softly this time, and then went to pour himself a cup of tea. “The first suggestion you made, I believe, was that if everyone ran their Christmas errands early, everywhere would be just as crowded all December. I can infer from this statement that you don't particularly like crowds. Secondly, you expressed displeasure at my tendency to get myself into trouble around Christmas, whether intentionally or not. Thirdly, you mentioned to me that you were hoping for snow on Christmas day, which I already knew, given the weather patterns in London over the last month, was distinctly unlikely. All of this added up to a brief holiday in the country, where you'd be much more comfortable.” He wandered back over, expression masked by the teacup he was drinking from.

“So this is all for me, Holmes? I dare say you've never done anything quite so selfless before, so you see why I might be a little suspicious of your motives.”

“Unless you can see a gentleman dragging a dead body across the moor in front of you, I can't see why you'd be so suspicious, Watson. I am capable of good deeds from time to time.” Holmes smiled the kind of smile that always made Watson uneasy about what the detective was going to say next. “But this isn't quite for your benefit _alone_ , either.”

Without a word he set his cup of tea down on the windowsill and then folded himself into the armchair Watson was occupying, forcing the other man to hold still and let him until he settled sideways on it, head resting on the inside of one of the wings.

“I'm told Christmas is a time for family.” He grabbed his discarded blanket from the floor and threw it over both of them, shifting to get more comfortable in a chair that was certainly not designed to be shared by two grown men, but doing an admirable job of putting up with the strain anyway.

“You know, Holmes, for all your obnoxious behaviour year-round, you do sometimes make up for it in the most spectacular ways.” Watson laughed as well, happy and warm and not at all bothered that Holmes was blaming this on him.

“I'm glad you think so, because I was just contemplating a study of the mathematical principles related to the shape of snowflakes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, O anon wisher! Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
